Girl as Church

She pins her hair with broken arrows
one for each kill
one for each conquest
the blood stained wood soaking her scalp
and dripping down her back
her dagger lies cold against her thigh
there to challenge
there to hurt
I watch her pulling on a dress
of her own making
searching the fabric on her hips as if it
could give me an answer
as if it could let me tame her
when she catches me looking she stares
back, defiant
and I avert my gaze from the dusty mirror
having intruded on something holy.